Before The Tale
by GS
Summary: Tale Arc, AU, 1x2, 3+4, 5+M. Before Duo met his friends, his past was troubled and hidden. This is his autobiography.
1. Prologue

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Before the Tale

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GS Note: This is set before My Kinda Fairy Tale. I was just reading it and saw how many times I mention past event and I though it might be fun to actually write 'em. This is going to be a collection of stories that the Maxwell Church goes through, the fun times, the hard times and the prosperous times. Told by a true expert on them, Duo of Maxwell Church. There will be very little real life breaks. It is set a few years after My Kinda Fairy Tale ended. Lol, definitely fits the SDDI rules ;) Tell me if it's a good idea or not, k?

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Prologue

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And So It Begins Again

I sat on the bed in my dorm room and looked around. It was empty of personal items, they were still in the lone box I had brought. It sat on the floor near the closed door. The walls were light blue. There were two rooms plus a shared bathroom and no windows. I smiled sadly. I never thought I would make it here. College. Hell, sometimes I wasn't sure I'd make it past the second grade. But here I am, alone in a tiny dorm studying to be a writer and a child counsellor. Not too adventurous, one of the things I've known I wanted to do most of my life and the other was started only a few years ago by one of my favourite teachers.

The unmade bed squeaked as I settled back on my hands. I would miss it. Heero was going to a University on the other side of the city so I would see him often enough. Trowa was out of high school and working at a local zoo. Wufei had managed to scrap together enough money to start a fund for his schooling and, until then, he is working at a centre for helping people to learn English. Merian is right beside him. Quatre had finished high school in the twelfth grade to work under his father until he was ready to take over the business. I still heard from his occasionally.

Dorothy had gone across the country to study medicine. We were still close and she promised to fly back every summer. Solo had gone for his nursing degree a year before me and was doing quite well while trying for his pilot lisence. Father Maxwell and Sister Helen are still running the orphanage with as kind a hand as they always did. It had been a shock to them when Solo moved out as he was the first child they had ever rescued, but they had gotten used to it. Now I'm gone and Matt is officially been declared the oldest orphan. 

I stood up and walked over to my box of momentos. As I said, it was fairly small. Most of it is drawings Hilde had made for me, some were other stuff the kids had created over the years, posters of my favourite rock bands, a few CD's, my portfolio of writing piece and other junk. I picked it up and brought it back to the bed. Setting it on top, I started to go through the stuff.

The first thing I pulled out was my portfolio. It had my best works and ones in progress, the rest I had left as a gift for Sister Helen, winking and saying some day they might be worth something someday. I had left her my old notebook, the one that had gotten me started on this authoring pursuit. As I flipped through them I came across a barely started one. It was a story on my life. In my last year of high school, my english teacher had asked us to write an autobiography as our ISP. I had tried and tried but in the end I had written what I thought was a poorly coated story about that Church that never would portray my life. It had been too difficult as most of my earlier memories had just started to come back to me. I had still gotten a good mark but this was the true story I started and rejected.

Maybe I could write it now. It wasn't going to be graded and criticised or even read by anyone other then me. Hell, maybe it would actually help me, a sort of therapy. I pulled the pen out of my braid that I constantly kept on me and lowered it to the page. Then stopped. For the first time in my life I couldn't write. I put the notebook down and looked back into the box. There was a picture in there, one of me, Father Maxwell, Solo and Sister Helen. It had been taken before the orphanage was officially recognised. It was my favourite. It showed my family at peace.

I picked up my pen again, and began to write, from the beginning.


	2. Misfire

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GS Note: Lol, due to a lovely review –wink- here's the next chapter. It's kinda short but hey, what da'ya gonna do?

Chapter 1

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Misfire

I sat at the top of the stairs, clutching the stair grips with all my might. They were yelling again. They always yelled, but this time it was different. They were yelling about me.

"That damn son of yours!" my mother was screeching. "I want him out! He's noting but a hell-raised **brat** and he doesn't appreciate me! How the fuck am I suppose to control him!"

"He's not a brat!" I heard my daddy yelled back. "And you are the one that raises him! Don't you dare bring him into our fight! God damn, that child has to go through enough without you!"

"That fucking brat destroyed the house again!" I whimpered. That hadn't been my fault. "He wrecked the kitchen!"

"It's not like you go in there!" my daddy yelled, getting louder. "Do you even feed him?!"

"I take care of that brat more then you! You son of a bitch! I'm fed up of your stupid kid! He ruined my life! He robbed me of my plans and damn it is he going to pay!"

"If you touch a hair on his head-"

"That's exactly what I'm going to fucking do! I'm cut off the ridiculous braid you love so much!" she turned and I could hear her stomping up the stairs. I froze and heard my daddy start up after her.

"Don't you dare! Leave him out of this!"

My mother spotted me and glared. "Come here, brat! I'm going to give you a little hair cut!"

My daddy pushed past her and stood between me and her protectively. "If you endanger my son-"

"When did you stop caring about me!" my mother's voice turned from murderous to pleading. "I gave you that damn brat, why don't you love me anymore?"

"You won't trap me this time," my daddy growled. He turned and scooped me from my perch and held me close. "I'm leaving. Support yourself."

My daddy turned and walked down the hall towards my room. I held on tight to his shirt. He opened my door and began to pack my little backpack. My mother came through the door.

"Where the hell are you going?" she demanded. I huddled behind my daddy as he finished and zipped up the bag. He put it on my back. 

"Away. Expect to hear from my lawyer about the divorce."

"I made you!" she screamed. "Without me you'd still be a corner kid selling your body to the highest bidder!"

My daddy paused in front of his own door and gripped me tight to him. I whimpered and he relaxed his grip slightly. He turned to glare at my mother with dangerous eyes.

"Don't you dare," he started in a low voice that made me huddle closer to him, "use that against me. I had no choice."

"Whore!" she screamed again. "Bastard! Son of a bitch!"

My daddy pushed past her and I felt tears start to rain down on my shirt. I know my own were running on to his. He started down the steps and out the door as she followed and continued cursing. She followed him right to the door. He bypassed the car and started to walk down the street, me still firmly in his grasp and her still yelling at him as he walked away. Several of the neighbours looked out their own doors and shook their heads at the raving woman. It wasn't until we were out of the block and well into down town that my father stopped and sat on a curb. He put me down but I held on to him.

"Well kiddo," he sighed. " Looks like we are on our own. I don't have any money so we might as well start walking to your Uncle Frank's house, huh?" Uncle Frank wasn't really my uncle, he was my daddy's best friend. 

I wiped my tears and looked up at him. His gazed was sad and ashamed. I hugged him and patted his back.

"I like Unkle Frank daddy," I tried my best in my little way to comfort him. "It'll be fun, right?"

"Yea," my daddy smiled and looked down at me. It was getting dark. "I guess it will be. We'll go stay there a while before I figure something out. He's got satellite and that game system you love so much."

"And he's really nice," I added and smiled. I pulled back and patted his arm. "It'll be ok, daddy." 

"Yea," he said and smiled fondly at me. " It just might be. " He stood up again and offered me his hand. I took it and hiked my back up. We started off again, this time our heart a bit lighter. We walked all of five minutes in the darkness when a figure approached us from am alley. He called over to my daddy. My daddy stiffened.

"What do you want?" my daddy asked, his voice tight. I gripped his hand tighter.

"You know what. You're been gone for four years, every since you knock that slut up. We missed you."

"I didn't miss you," my daddy said and started to walk and pulled me along. I needed no encouragement. The man followed us.

"Oh come on, we'll even take in that kid of your, I know people that'll like little girls."

My daddy stopped and turned to face the dirty man. "If you dare to lay and hand on my son-"

"Oh, it's a boy then," the foul-smelling man leered at me and I ducked behind my dad. "In that case I'll take him myself!"

"I told you I would never come back! Stop following me, I'm not who I used to be!" my daddy was sounding scared. If that man could make my daddy scared…

The man advanced on us. Daddy pushed me down the street. He faced the man with determination and I stood rooted on the spot.

"Go," my daddy said. I froze and stood staring at him. My daddy looked back at me. "Go! Run, get out of here!"

I looked one last time into my daddy's violet eyes and turned. I ran as fast as my little legs would take me. I risked one more look over my shoulder and saw my daddy give a small smile and turn back to the man. That was the last I saw of my daddy. I wasn't far away when I hear a bang like on TV and my daddy yell. Tears streamed down my face but I kept on running and running. I ran and ran until I couldn't run no more. I stopped and huddled at the mouth of the alley. I threw up on the ground and looked back from where I had come. It was pitch black and the street light above me was dark. I shivered and wrapped my arms around my knees. It was cold that night but I cried myself to sleep on that garbage bag.


	3. Out of the Cold

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GS: I guess I should warn you that most of the stories are very short. They'll probably come out fast too and will just be a small collection of short stories. Every so often I'm thinking of showing the present-time Duo as he writes it but that would be in a separate chapters. You guys have to tell me what you think! If you don't like this I'll take it down but it's gonna be very cute and it'll give a lot of fuzzy feelings!

Chapter 2

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Out of the Cold

It was about a year after that fateful day my father gave his life for my escape, that realised I had learned several important lessons. Number one, never sleep in garbage on the streets. I learned that fast when I woke up to see two red, gleaming eyes a few centimetres from my face. Number two, I was on my own. I left the town of my birth and I must have spent a few days walking and riding in cars with nice old ladies. I had no clue what my name was or where I had come from. My past life was a dream. And lastly, never trust anyone. Ever. It got you killed on the streets. I know children younger then I that had the power to strike someone down when they were unsuspecting. 

The mind is a complex thing. At this time I spent approximately three and a half years living a nice comfortable life and in just one more, I was hardened. I couldn't imagine what a bed would feel like or to have a permanent residence. I couldn't read, count, write or talk properly. I had shower whenever it rained and a meal whenever I could choke down a scrap from the garbage. I was too young to know about homeless shelters or orphanages so my home was whatever box or crack I could fit into. I had several companions that stayed with me at one time or another. I can remember one vividly. 

His name was Jason. He was sixteen when I met him. His father had kicked him out of the house and his mother was dead. I had stumbled onto his house one wet and cold night. Actually I fell on him in my hurry to get out of the cold and into his refrigerator box. At first I had been scared. He was older then me and I never had good experiences with older people. I tired to run but he, also being startled, grabbed me and pinned me to his chest. I kicked at him but he just grunted and whispered to me to cut it out.

I did eventually stop struggling, I hadn't eaten in a few days and my energy was drained. He held me tight for another few minutes before whispering, "are you going to run?"

"I ain't runnin' from nuthin'," I replied, trying to act tough. He let me go and I scurried to the end of the box, staring at him warily. He offered a friendly smile. I don't remember much about his appearance. It was dark and I only knew him for one night so it was hard to concentrate on cosmetics. 

"My name's Jason, Jason Biggs," he extended a dirty, grimy hand to me. I looked at it strangely, no one had ever shaken my hand before. When I didn't accept it, he dropped it down, still smiling kindly. "What's yours?"

"My what?" I asked. No one had ever asked for my name before and I never asked for theirs.

"Your name of course," he chuckled. "I like to know who I'm talking to."

"I dun have un," I replied. His face dropped in shock.

"You don't have one? Everybody has a name! What did your parents call you?"

I didn't speak, why should he want to know? I glared at him, the only sound was the rain drumming on our little roof and dripping in the corner. His eyes watched me for a minute before switching the subject.

"So, how long have you lived here?"

"Dunno."

"A few days, months?"

"Seen hot weather, freezin' and now rainin'," I shrugged casually. 

"Since last summer?" the guy looked shocked. "I've been out here for less then a month!"

I had no comprehension of what was month was so I stayed quiet. Jason looked at me sadly.

"I have it better then you I suppose. I have an aunt coming in a month, I can stay with her until I got to collage and I guess I have a future. What do you have?" he sighed and looked at me, It unnerved me and I wanted to run but he blocked my escape.

"Stay here," he said. "At least get out of the rain for one night."

I didn't understand what he was saying then. I didn't understand what he was offering. He spent the night talking to me. Telling me about his family, how beautiful and kind his mother was until she died. How much he loved his father before the man had found comfort in a bottle. He shared his life with me and I spent one night slowly soaking it up. The next day I woke up to him sleeping. I snuck out and ran away. He had been an unknown to me. He had a comfortable life, he was leaving and that scared me. I thought there was no escape to the streets. Once they sucked you in, there was no end. You were doomed to die in a can or alley until the rats ate you and no one missed you. 

I didn't learn much that day but after a few years of living at the Church I realised what Jason had been trying to do for me. He had been trying to offer me his life in place of the one I never had. He let me out the rain for one night and I am eternally grateful of him to showing me that there was more to life then the next meal. 

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	4. Helping Hands

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Chapter 3

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Helping Hands

It was snowing. I hated the snow. I often saw kids at the parks with their parents playing in it. What idiots, if you get wet in cold like this you'll get sick and you can't steal and eat. I learned that early and I almost starved as a result. Still, it was a good place to hang out, people brought snacks and parents usually kept an eye on the kids so the food was easy to snatch. I had seen one old guy, dressed all in black except for a white collar come here a little while ago. He didn't bring any kids but just sat and watched those idiots play. I thought it strange but he didn't have anything I wanted so I ignored him.

He was back today, this time he had brought a kid. Short, little, happy guy that made friends with all the other kids and didn't care he was getting soaked. I snorted, what a moron. I managed to pinch a sandwich from a couple and hid in an alley to eat it. It was the only meal I had gotten today and I wasn't about to waste it. I was sitting there, feeling my stomach digest it, when this older kid dashed into my little place. I grabbed a stick beside me and watched him wearily as he settled down. 

He had on a tattered, long coat and he smiled wickedly at me. I gulped. "Hey kid, yous looks like yous could use some 'dvice."

I was surprised at this and glared at him silently. Advice was never accurate and often too high a price. He just kept on grinning, a gleam in his eye.

"There's a few nice places 'round here ya can sneak inta to pinch some big loot." He pulled a small loaf of bread from his pocket wrapped in a plastic bag and a shiny-looking ring. "Take my advice, kid. With a sweet face likin' yours, you cin git a load of booty from those nice folk. Jus' look for big houses and I swear it's a whooper of a good t'ing!"

I looked greedily at his bread. He instantly noticed the looked and hugged the loaf to his chest. "But don' 'spect me ta share!"

The boy stood up and hurried away, his bare feet slapping the puddles. I snorted wishfully at the lost meal. Then I thought to myself out loud, it helped greatly to organise thoughts. "Hm, mayba that guy's gotta idea. Good 'un too. Big houses…"

I stood up, not bothering to brush the wet, gritty gravel and dirt off my tattered clothes. I knew where a big house was. I, fortunately, had a pair of boots that were too big for me that I had pinch off some donation box. It didn't help my running but it kept my toes attached to my body. I found the house I was looking for.

It was big. There was an unkept lawn lightly covered in snow leading to the front door. A path was there, barely visible in the white powder. Only a few footsteps leading up to the arched wooden doors cleared it. There were two large windows on either side of the door, not broken so they were out of place next to the old, sharp stone wall they were jutting out off. The sides were covered in dense trees. A path lead through the left side, almost hidden by the branches as it followed the walls. There were two stories but the second one had no windows. I hid in the trees off to the right as I thought about what to do.

I supposed I would have to go in. That thought excited me terribly. I hadn't been inside a real building, one with four walls and a roof, since I had left home. Even if I was only going to be in there for a few minutes, it would be awesome! I sat in the snow behind a tree for a good while, waiting for someone to come out. The wind picked up but I never noticed. 

Nobody left for the whole time I was there. I was beginning to suspect no one was home. If the house was empty, I guessed it would make my life a whole lot easier. I crept closer, my head already fantasising about the food I would be eating and the warmth I would have tonight. My mouth started to water at the thought. Almost dropping my guard, I stalked up to the house stealthily and paused in front of the huge arched doors, excitement coiled in my chest as my mouth went dry.

I cautiously touched the metal handle with one hand. When nothing happened, I gripped it with my tiny fist and pulled. As I pulled, though, someone pushed.

I was caught unsuspecting as a boy my height, pushed the door, his mouth going a mile a minute. Combined with shock, fear and momentum, I fell back in the shallow snow right on my butt. The boy noticed me as an older man followed him out. It was that boy from the park with that old guy in the black. He looked into my frightened eyes with surprise for a minute, before smiling broadly.

"Hey! Whatcha doin' in the snow?" the boy asked brightly and offered his hand to me. I looked at his gloved hand, still fearful of what he would do. I locked gazes with him for a minute but he never stopped smiling or pulled his hand away. Slowly and very carefully, I lifted one of my cold, red-swollen hands to him and placed it gingerly on his woollen palm. His hand gripped mine tightly and he hauled me to my feet.

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	5. Welcome

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GS Note: Hehe, another part. I guess I left pt3 on a bit of an edge. Ops! Lol, read on my little readers! It's not the best but it'll have to do!

Oh, you guys must know, the bottom section of the Church has been greatly influence by my own Church. It is bigger, has a second story, it better kept and more sophisticated but I love both of them! I've only attended masses at two other Churches and St Timothy remains my favourite! Sorry to all you non-Catholics but I really do love it and Father Brian! He's so cool!

EXTRA: I am drawing on my own experiences with the cold. I only live on the edges of Southern Ontario in Canada so I am fortunately not in the coldest parts. I have been outside when it has been under minus 20 with a wind chill of 40 or 50 with minimal clothing so I like to humour myself in saying that I know somewhat what cold is. So to those of you in Florida and other various paradises, un-gloved hands swell and get very, very sensitive. Any part of the body in fact. I'm sure if you look it has a name but that is irrelevant. So in one of those fics where they bring in a frozen pilot and rub him to get him warm, it HURTS to do that! It might just be me, but damn, I hate it when my friends do it to me! There are less painful and less hentai (that what fun would it be?) methods of warming up!

Chapter 4

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Welcome

So here I was, standing in front of a bundled up boy with all the comforts in the world, snug in his jacket, mitts and hat. I was still nervous. There was that old guy behind the kids who was looking at me and smiling kindly. But how could tell, I had never been in touch with the better part of humanity for a long time. I locked eyes with the old guy and it broke my trance. I hurriedly wiped my swollen hands on my ratted jeans, embarrassed. 

"I was'js goin'…" I said quickly, ashamed that this boy was witnessing my failure. I turned to run away when he grabbed my hand again. I almost yelped as he squeezed too hard. He let go quickly but I held my throbbing hand under my armpit, letting the surrounding warmth of my body slowly start to restore the blood flow.

"You don't have to," the old man said and smiled reassuringly. I looked at both of them like they were crazy. They were, from my point of view. Who just said that? Who? Not normal people, that who! Normal people would have chased me down or something and given me to the police.

There was a voice from inside the house. The two looked inside the open door and gave me time to turn and I was about to run, when a musical voice stopped me.

"What are you two still doing here? You are going to miss the- Who is that?"

I winced as the voice turned on to me. I lowered my eyes to the ground and stiffened my back as I felt all three pairs of eyes on me. That voice had been so lovely, I so desperately wanted to see the face. I didn't look though, what did I have to offer someone like that? I know, I know, I'm getting all unworthy and pathetic sounding but at the time I really did think there was some angel behind me.

"Oh, this is some guy that was coming into the Church," the young boy said happily. "I don't think he has a family either, can he stay too?"

"How do you know if he has a family or not, young man?" the beautiful voice said again. At those words, my stiff posture became even more rigid. This wasn't the boy's family? "Look, you are letting all the cold air in, you and Father Maxwell go to the park and see that thing you wanted to see? I'll get this guy clean up and you can talk to him when you get back. Is that all right?"

That last question has been directed at me. I turned my head slowly, eyes glued to the ground. I half-turned my body too, scared that I would be taken into the building and also afraid of not. I shrugged non-committingly.

"Good. Go on you two, I promise one our guest is clean up you can talk to them."

The boy and man waved good bye and left, but I still started at the ground, still half-turned to run if she decided to change her mind.

"Well, come on! The Church is getting cold," she said sharply. I kept my eyes trained on the ground as I slowly walked past her and into the building. It was a shock. Outside had been my home, the temperature had been getting into the negatives and the wind chill had been high for the past few weeks. I hadn't noticed the weather change to much extreme so when I walked into a heated room for the first time in about six months, I gasped. It hurt, my hands, bare arms, legs, face, cheeks, teeth, lungs, everything, in that one instance, erupted into a large roll of pins and needles that flashed through my mind for a bare second. The woman walked in front of me, but I was too involved with the sudden, unexpected feeling of heat to notice when she knelt in front of me.

"Are you okay?"

That sweet voice brought me out of my haze and right into her face. She had light blue-grey eyes what looked upon me with concern. She was dressed in a full habit that covered her hair and most of her body so her eyes were her most prominent feature. I froze.

She looked at me for a moment longer before sighing and standing up. "Let's get you a bath."

She walked off down through the second set of doors but I stayed to looked around. There was a front hall with a ragged carpet that had been trampled until part of it had given way to hard wood floor. Faded pictures of past religious figures hung on the wall. A green bulletin board held yellowed paper. There was another set of wooden door (this time with a slightly more modern design) that stood open. There was a long hallway beyond that. 

"Are you coming?" she appeared in the second doorway, hands on hips, a curious expression on her face. I nodded and ran the short distance to catch up. She led me through a door to the right of the entrance. She opened a small door off to the side of the room in a corner.

Duo peeked around her to see a set of spiral, old-fashioned metal and wood stairs. The woman easily picked up her habit and started up.

"Well, come on," she called over her shoulder. "I won't bite."

Duo looked at her wearily but started up slowly after her. Upstairs was slightly better then down but the floor was scattered with broken glass, boxes, clothes and old junk that was layered with thick dust. Once you passed the front room, which was actually quite long and narrow, there were three doors. She went through the one on the left. Inside was a general living area with a couch and table. It was the same size as the room we had just left.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" the woman turned, looking very apologetic. My face dropped and I started to shuffled back to the door. Damn, I knew this was too good to be true. My heart suddenly felt very heavy. "I forgot to introduce myself!"

I looked back at her, hope sparking again. She smiled cheerfully, like a young girl. "My name is Sister Helen! Welcome to Maxwell Church!"


	6. Coming Clean

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GS Note: Well, I don't know if I'll have a chance to say it again, but GO CANADA! Win, win, win, gold, gold, gold! Our ladies hockey team beat the Americans, you can too! Damn, guys do you know how obsessive hockey is? I gotta work during the game tomorrow so I'm taking my walkman to listen! Our school was announcing the score for Canada vs. Belarus and I listened on the bus. I went from from, yea, hockey, to YEA HOCKEY, in like, 2 days! Wish Canada luck, if we win gold again we are officially number one in hockey in the world! Our ladies beat the undefeated Americans and I can only hope our guys can too! Oh yea, and uh, thanks for reviewing peeps!

Chapter 5

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Coming Clean

Maxwell Church. This was a place I would know well. I looked around, unimpressed by what I saw. I may have lived in less then desirable conditions but this place seemed more like an abandoned building instead of a Church. If I had known there were buildings like this, I would have started to sneak into houses more often. There was so much useless, dirty junk around I could have easily hidden myself in here for days and no one would notice if I stole something.

"I'm sorry for the mess," Sister Helen noticed my look and brought me back to reality. "Myself and Father Maxwell, the man you met, were just assigned here. We haven't have a chance to clean up."

I nodded stiffly, I was unused to having people address me.

"I can give you a bit of background," Sister Helen waved a hand to a couch that was oddly placed against the wall and stood out as it had been cleaned. She sat down and unbuttoned the tall habit she wore around her head. I stood still as she pulled it off her head. I was mesmerised by the long blonde hair that fell from it. She sighed in relief and ran a hand through her long hair, separated it.

"Well come a sit," she patted the cushion beside her on the couch. I slowly walked forward and settled uncomfortably on the plush surface. I bounced experimentally but stopped when she started to speak. "The Maxwell Church building is almost one hundred years old. It was a house for an extremely rich family but was converted to be a Church about fifty years ago. Then St Joseph's opened about twenty years ago and this Church was too small to hold the Catholic population while St Joseph's was huge. I'm sure you must have seen it. Maxwell Church fell to disuse until Father Maxwell, who's great-great-grandfather first built this house, decided that this place deserved a second chance. So he requested help from my organisation and they sent a nun, that's me. We arrived a few weeks ago."

She smiled as the memories hit her. "I thought Father Maxwell was crazy, this was an old run-down building with no hope of becoming a Church! I helped him but this place wasn't making progress until about a week ago. That boy outside, the one that was standing with Father Maxwell, came to us during that bad snowstorm. We found him curled up on this couch here. He didn't have a name but was so polite and kind. We decided to keep him for a few days until the police could find a home for him," her voice turned wishful. "I'll miss him. He still doesn't have a name though, he said he would get one when the time comes." She looked off to the wall, dreamily. "A boy that young shouldn't have to live on the streets like he did."

She turned to me again, a curious expression on her face. "So, what's your name?"

My throat was mysteriously dry. I swallowed and looked at her with large, imploringly eyes. "I dun' 'ave un."

Sister Helen looked at me with a shocked expression. Ashamed I looked to my feet in their oversized boots and felt oddly out of place in this building. It made me nervous. I felt her shift on her side of the couch and flinched, expecting harsh words or a stinging slap.

"I never knew things were this bad," she had leaned back on the couch and looked imploring at the ceiling. "How many kids are out there without names or homes? We've found two in a week, how many more are we destine to find?"

Suddenly she was struck with an idea. She bolted up straight and I jumped off the couch, scattering to the opposite wall. She grinned wildly and said loudly," Maxwell Church has found its purpose!" She turned to me, smiling and it unnerved me. "Come on, nameless one, let's get you a bath to warm you up!"

I followed her to the end of the room. There was another staircase here too, where is led I didn't know as it was too dark and steep to see. On the wall beside the stairs, though, was a door. Sister Helen opened it. I stepped inside curiously, it was bright, chilly and yellow. I suppose it had been a private bathroom, there was a bathtub, toilet and sink with a counter. 

"You can take a bath now then eat. How does that sound?"

"C'n I not have th' bath?"

"No," Sister Helen chuckled. "I'll start it, you take off your clothes."

With that, I froze. There was no way she expected me to actually just take off my clothes! I grabbed her wrist, my hard, red hands grasping her thin, white wrists.

"No!" I said firmly and shook my head. She looked at me surprised. 

"You need a bath-"

"Not takin' m' clothes off," I said firmly and tightened my grip on her hand until my filthy fingernails ground into her skin making her flinch. She looked at me shock and a tingle of fear in her eyes as I glared at her.

"All right," she said slowly. "I'll just fill up the tub, then you can get cleaned off while I make you some food."

I nodded and released her as she turned the handle on the bath again. I occupied myself with looking around. The counter was well over my head but I saw a shiny thing on the wall above it. Sister Helen finished with the tub so it was half way filled with clean, warm water. She left after showing me how to lock the door, which I did as soon as she was out. I looked up at the wall over the counter again. I wasn't about to let my guard down now and I wanted to know what was up there.

I climbed up on the toilet and then onto the counter. It was a mirror. I got a look at myself. Sure I had seen my reflection in puddles or glass but never this clear.

My hair was long and disleveled, mud and sticks firmly caught in it. My face was so layer with dirt you couldn't tell my skin colour. My face was thin and my eyes looked out from hollow cheeks. My ears were tipped with blue from the cold and when I reached to feel my face it was numb and leathery. I hurriedly jumped down from the mirror shaken and went to the water.

I did kick off my boots, it was too awkward to stand or kneel by the tub in them. I carefully stepped into the warm water, hissing as my cold skin warmed up too fast. I stood there, wiggling my bare toes as I started to feel in them for the first time in weeks. Stubborn dirt started to reluctantly lift as I knelt down in the water, careful not to get the top of my shorts wet. My knees and legs screamed in protest but I just gritted my teeth as I was filled with the pain and pleasure of hot warmth on cold skin. The water was starting to get dirty but I scooped some up in my hands and gulped it down. Again and again I plunged my hands in and greedily drank the clean water. I'm sure it wasn't sanitary as my hands were filthy but it was the cleanest water I had in a long time. After I was satisfied, I placed my hands in so I was on all fours in the heavenly water.

Slowly the needle-pain in my body started to leave as the skin loosened for the water. The rest of my body chilled compared to my legs and hands so I developed goose bumps. I realised now, why people took off their clothes for a bath, your body could be all one temperature.

I wasn't too sure about the lock though, so I settled for the half-in half-out sensation. I splashed water on my face and arms, years of dirt lifting off for the first time. I knelt in the tub for a long time, until the water was brown with dirt and cold. I stood up to get out when there was a knock at the door.

"Are you all right in there?" Sister Helen asked, concerned.

I swear, I almost cried. She sounded like she cared, like she cared about me!

Me. Little me.

"Yea," I answered in a gruff, unused voice. Things would be different now, I hoped anyhow. 


	7. Hurting Innocents

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GS Notes: To be warned. This chapter will either be butchered or amazing. There is no in between. Be honest, this was soooooo hard to write and I'd like some feedback on it. Positive if it applies.

****

Chapter 6

__

Hurting Innocents

I slipped my warm but wet feet back in my boots, the soles uncomfortably cold now. After a couple seconds, I took them out again to go barefoot. The floor was much smoother and softer then outside and my feet were hard from walking on it. I carried them with me though, no telling when this lady would try to throw me out and when she did I wanted them with me.

As soon as I opened the door, the dusty, full air it me with a wonderful scent. I sniffed and my mouth watered. I stood for a minute, eyes closed, mouth watering as the unearthly aroma swirled around me. Almost unconsciously, my hands loosened and my boots fell with a thump on the floor. My feet edged closer to the stairs near the bathroom door. the smell was coming from the old wood staircase that wound sharply down into the old floor.

Unsure, I gripped the crafted iron handle and peered down into the dark hole. I placed a small, bare foot on the top step. I pulled back sharply as it creaked but when nothing dropped out of the ceiling on me, I placed it back on the step and my other foot followed. I stood uncertainly on the top step, hands gripping the railing as I waited tensely for something to happen. Nothing did. I moved down the first ten steps or so, until the ceiling was fully over my head and the only light was the one shining on the lowest steps. The scent was even stronger here. 

I hurried down the rest but peered cautiously around the doorway. There was a large kitchen. It had a stone floor with old wood cupboards that reached from floor to ceiling. A door stood near the stairs looking misplaced with its un-peeled white paint and metal. I touched it but pulled away as it was very cold. The wall opened to another room but there wasn't a door and was set between the cupboards. At the far end of the room there was a black wood stove and beside that the wall gave way to a door I couldn't see from this angle. I put my foot on the cold stone floor.

Sister Helen was opening cupboards and pulling out stuff. There was another stove in the room by the cupboards. There were more cupboards around that one. It was amazing, it seemed like this place could hold everything! I hovered in the warm room feeling out of place. I shifted nervously as Sister Helen lifted the lid of a silver pot on the second stove and stirred. It was a good few minutes before she turned around and noticed me.

"Ah! There you are! Nice and clean now?" she asked brightly. Somehow I suspected she was doing it for my benefit but I didn't have a lot of people skills. I tugged at the bottom of my shirt as she hurried over and ushered me closer into the room off of the cupboard room. It was still all made of stone. Bright lights were strung around the low ceiling, wires were free and unclosed. It was very crude. It was so different.

There was a huge wood table. I was pushed into one of three chairs placed at one end of the long table. I fiddled with my shirt again as she hurried out, back into the kitchen. I could hear her behind me and my nerves were on edge as I looked around the cold and empty room. She came back in holding the pot with gloved hands. She set in down in the middle of the table across from me on a woven circle I hadn't noticed before. She took her hands off right away and flapped them in the air scowling as she muttered how the oven mitts weren't nearly as effective as the saleswoman told her.

"Here's some food," she said as he opened the lid of the pot. Steam poured out but I wasn't as interested with that was I was with the smell that followed. I lost all nervousness I had as soon as the smell hit my nose. My hollow stomach quivered expectantly and I suddenly felt painful cramps. I rose out of my seat, one hand raised to grab the delicious food waving out of it…

"Sit!" Sister Helen pushed me back down right before my hand entered the heat above the food. I fell back, dazed and feeling weak in my joints as I gazed at the pot. "I'm sorry, it's only oatmeal and I've been told everything else I make leaves something to be desired."

I barely heard her as she dipped a ladle into the pot and stirred, making more aromas come out. My eyes closed briefly in pain and bliss before I was started when she banged the ladle clean on the side of the pot and put the lid back on. She said to wait a minute and not to touch it. She left again. I looked at the pot, quickly weighing my pros and cons of disobeying her. Almost immedently I started to reach to take the lid off the pot again. Right before I touched it, she came back in holding two bowl and spoons. I snatched my hand away before she could see.

She put one of the bowls in front of me and handed me the spoon, which I held awkwardly as she lifted the lid again. She spooned a full thing into my bowl and hit my hands gently as I reach to eat it. I pulled back and scowled, not from the pain but from the fact that I hadn't gotten anything to eat yet. She waved one of the oven mitts over it until the steam dissipated. Then she stepped back.

"Go ahead, eat up," she smiled and sat at another chair. I didn't even hear the last bit of the sentence. I dropped the spoon and picked up the bowl. Using my clean fingers, I scooped the still-hot food directly from the bowl to my mouth. In a mere few seconds the bowl was clean and I was licking the last morsels off my fingers. I looked up to see Sister Helen, her spoon poised over her own bowl of oatmeal, eyes wide as she just looked at me. I paused, guiltily, the held out my bowl.

"Um, cin I hav' more?

That shook Sister Helen out of her shocked stupor. "Uh, okay, sure."

She spooned another helping into the bowl. This time she didn't get a chance to fan it before I was shoving it in. It was warmer then the last bowl but no more then I could handle. I got a third, then forth bowl when my stomach began to feel strange. It made strange rumbling sounds and I paused on my fifth helping and placed the food down too hold my stomach. Sister Helen had gone to get a loaf of bread and was sitting at the table cutting it with a large knife. She paused as I put the bowl down.

"That's enough for you," she said sternly and picked up the half-finished bowl to my protest. "Any more and you are going to be very sick! As it is you should go lay down for a while."

"But-" I began to protest.

"Just wait here and I'll show you to Father Maxwell's bed, you can get some rest. Now wait here so I can get you a cloth to clean up."

I sat there as she whisked the pot, bowl and spoon away, leaving me with only the loaf of bread and the knife she was cutting with. Before she could come back I grabbed the few piece of bread she had cut and shoved them in one of the pockets on my shorts. The knife I stuck along my side so the handle was clutched in my armpit. Sister Helen returned and hurried me out of the room before she noticed that something was missing.

We went back up the long winding staircase and down the dusty room with the couches to a new door I hadn't been in. She opened it to an L-shaped hallway lined with doors. She opened the second and last one on the left. Inside was a tired old bed with several blankets, the top one a knitted afghan. My jaw dropped as she pushed me towards it.

"I sleep 'ere?" I asked astonished. 

"Until Father Maxwell comes back. Then we'll have to fine another place for you to sleep until the authorities can find you a home."

At that word, authorities, my brain froze, then whirled back to life at lightning speeds. Fortunately, Sister Helen wasn't looking at my face.

"Oh," I said casually. My heart beat wildly in panic. It was very rare I found myself backed into corners. Running and hiding almost never placed me near my pursuers. I had little practice in the ways of acting. Sister Helen noticed right away.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, innocently.

"Na!" I said falsely, pasting an unused grin on my face. It felt fake and plastic as my muscles stretched into ways I never used before. She didn't buy it.

"No, I'm sure something is wrong," she said thoughtfully and looked down at me. I fidgeted. "If you're worried about the authorities, don't. They are actually very nice. We called them yesterday to ask for a home for Solo and we got a lot of information. After you sleep I'll tell you more about it."

I wasn't reassured. Authorities meant police. Police meant stealing. I stole a lot so I had met police a lot. They weren't very nice. I nodded for Sister Helen though, the strained smile still on my face. She looked at me for another minute before blinking and moving towards the closet.

"I can get you something more comfortable to wear," she asked, hopeful to be helpful. I had food and a knife. I wanted to leave, now before the police came to take me away. But it always helped to have extra clothes. I nodded and she hurried away. As soon as she left, my stomach gave a few gurgling noises.

I didn't feel hungry but I pull out the bread I had taken. I took a huge mouthful and swallowed. It didn't help. My food flipped around in my stomach and I felt sick. I didn't wan to throw up on the floor though. Not only would the food go to waste but that might make that woman angry. Maybe I was still hungry.

I pulled out one of the crumpled pieces of bread I had swiped. With a nervous glance, I stuffed it in my mouth.

She returned with a bundle of clothes in her arms. "These should be all right for you to—what are you eating?"

I swallowed the half-chewed food quickly and it lodged in my throats. A choking cough came from me but I gamely force the rest of the food down and returned her glare. "Nuthin'."

"I'm sure. I thought I told you no more food right now," she dropped the clothes on the bed and held out a hand expectantly. "Give me the rest."

"Whadda talkin' about?" I growled, the words coming out harshly. "I dun have any more."

"Yes, you do. And the worst thing you can do is lie about it. Now, hand it over!"

"I tol'ya I dun have any!" I yelled back, forcing panic down. My eyes searched for an escape and landed at the door behind her. She must have seen my face light up. I looked at determined eyes. 

"Trying to escape? What, you don't like help from others?" she took a step forward and I took one back. "Give me the food and we can just forget this."

Seeing her eyes change from forceful to pleading, I made my decision. I tried to duck to the side, intent on leaving. In instinct, her slender hand flashed out to grab my arm. Reacting before my brain caught up, I lashed out. With the knife in my hand.

I was just as shocked as she was when my punch didn't roll. It stuck. I froze just for an instant, enough time for her pretty, so blue eyes to lock on to mine. They were filled with pain, shock and…fear. That made me let go and jump back.

She hissed and pulled the knife out of her side, using her hand to hold the place where it had been. All I could see was the blood on the knife, the blood seeping through her fingers and the blood on my hands.

My brain shut down after that. Without thinking, I dove under the bed, huddling at the back with my knees curled up to my chest. I buried my face in to my knees, holding myself in a trembling hug.

No one had _ever_ been afraid of me. Not my mom, dad or the other people on the streets. I looked at my hands, stained with the innocent blood of the nun.

If making people afraid of you meant doing _that_ again, count me out.

I'd rather be terrified then terrify. 


	8. Side Story 1

**__**

GS Note: Yes, this is only one, **_I get it. Don't worry, this is just a peek into the real world again. Back to chibi-Duo next part, I swear! I just wanted some Heero in there!_**

Before the Tale

__

Side story #1

My fingers shook slightly as I saved the document and shut down my laptop. Soon after I had started classes last month I found it a lot easier and neater to type and transferred all my stories to my computer. Now, sitting at a table in the library near an outlet, I slipped the second-hand computer into my bag and shouldered it. I wiped my dry eyes absently and hurried to the exit. I think I got a few looks but all I could concentrate on was how I needed Heero right now. 

I caught the city bus a few blocks from the library. It was late and not many people were on fortunately. I took a seat near the door, shifting in my seat and playing with my braid. Why the hell was this bus ride so long? I was up and out of the door before the bus stopped completely, already jogging to the campus.

"Oh come on Duo," I spoke quietly to myself, ignored by the students studying outside. "Buck up. What's the worst that can happen? He's not there? Then I'll just go home." But I really need him right now…

I managed to not get myself lost as I looked for his room. The most we've done is talk over the phone and computer since he left and butterflies fluttered in my stomach as my mind raced with dozens of senarios. What if he decided he didn't feel for me anymore? Was he busy? Did he not want me here? Damn this was a bad idea…

I knocked on his door, anxiety making me shift from foot to foot as I waited for the door to open. It didn't. My heart sagged as I knocked again, this time I heard a curse and someone shuffle to the door. They sounded angry…

The door opened and a sleepy, tossled face looked blurrily at me. A grey tank top and red boxer clad Heero blinked.

"Duo?"

"C-can I come in?" my voice shook as I rubbed my hands tensely. "Please?"

"Sure, my roommates at his girlfriend's tonight so—" that was all he got out before I rushed in and shut the door behind me. He looked surprised at my haste. I looked at the floor, unsure of where to start. He reached over and placed a hand on my shoulder when the dam broke. I praticaly dove at him, I scared into falling on his rear. I clung to his chest, babbling about the story I was writing and about Sister Helen, making no sense. He rubbed my back soothingly, whispering for me to slow down so I could speak. Eventally his voice calmed me and I let him go. He pulled me to the leg-less couch and let me start again.

I fell asleep to a gentle kiss on the top of my head.


	9. Solo Act

**__**

Coolio, it's out. Awesome, eh? Um, I suppose it's okay but it leaves on another cliffhanger so I don't know how much you guys will like me. Chao!

Before the Tale

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Solo Act

It was cold under the bed. The house was badly heated in spots and this room was right against the outer wall so the cold crept through the back of the bed I was huddle against. I was used to cold but this was different. When I first started to fight and steal I did feel badly for the beginning but I got used to it. I needed to survive too. But the cold I felt back then started to rise in my stomach too. 

Sister Helen had fallen to her knees, gasping as she pushed her hands tight over the wound. She turned her head dizzily to look at me under the bed.

"P-please come out," she was panting. "It wasn't your f-fault. P-please I n-need your h-help. C-come on…"

She _needed_ me? Yea right! I just stabbed her, there was no way she wasn't seriously thinking of hurting me. I was never leaving. I shook my head stubbornly. She gave a shuddering sigh and placed one of her bloodied hands on the bed. It creaked over my head as she used it to stand up. She hobbled out of the room, her uneven steps accompanied by whimpers of protest. I covered my ears with my hands.

It seemed like hours I crouched there. My legs had long since fallen asleep so I finally relaxed a bit and sat on the dusty wooden floor. I sneezed again as I felt the blood rushing back into my legs. It felt cool. I sniffed a bit, all the sneezing making my nose runny. Maybe they'd left. They might have thought that since I wasn't going to move there was no point in keeping the house and they just all up and left. Maybe it was safe…

I edged a bit closer to the clear floor. It was time to leave right? But what if…? I poked my head out from under the bed. It seemed quiet. I cautiously put a hand tenderly on the wooden floor.

Footsteps thumped from the end of the hall. I scuttled backwards, smacking my head on the top of the bed but I was safely back against the wall. I wrapped my arms around my knees and prayed for my heart to stop racing and my teeth to stop chattering.

The small feet paused outside of the door I was in and I could hear breathing. The footsteps started again, a bit slower.

"Hello?"

I didn't answer. There was no way I was going to give myself away if I didn't have too. There was no telling what would happen. In all my years on the street, this was the worst thing to happen to me yet.

"Hell_oooooo…_" this time the word was teasingly strung out. "I know you're in here! I'm here to find you! Come out, come out where ever you are!"

I didn't move a muscle.

"Fine," there was a slight sigh in the little voice. "I'll just have to find you. Here little kid, little kid, little kid… Now, if I were terrified, where would I be?"

Even I couldn't help but pause a second and utter a small sigh at his stupidity. If you babbled like that on the street, there was no telling what someone would do to you. People just don't like anything annoying if they can help it.

"Well, under something for starters," there was a small thump of two little knees hitting the floor. I saw the back of a blonde head look under a chair. "Nope, not there."

The little kid turned his head and all irritated thoughts flew from my head as his piercing ice eyes spotted me.

"Aha! Gotcha!"

I curled up tighter as he slid on his belly instead of his knees. He squirmed under the bed, sneezing as he worked his way closer to me.

"Hey ya!"

I glared at him as my hands shook.

"Um, I don't really have a name yet, Sister Helen says I'm my own solo act though! You can call me Solo then. What's your name?"

I looked down. Twice in one day two people had asked for something I didn't have. I stabbed the first, what was I going to do with him. I scooted farther away from him. He kept his insane grin and shuffled forward more.

"Don't worry about Sister Helen, Father Maxwell is taking her to the hospital but they don't think it's too bad. She's not mad you know, a little pissed but who wouldn't be?"

That's right, who wouldn't be pissed at a street rat who just _stabbed_ them for their generosity! I certainly didn't want to hang out here, not when a hospital and police are going to be involved. The only problem was this small blonde haired boy who called himself Solo. He was in my way.

Before he could think, I dove forward onto my belly and started to skimmy past him to the open door. I caught him off guard as my head poked free of the dust and I scrambled to my feet.

Wham! I fell face first on the ground. Dazed, I glanced back and saw a pair of determined blue eyes smiling at me. I struggled to gather my wits as I lashed out with the other foot. I heard a yelp of pain as the grip lessened on my foot. Without waiting to see what I had hit on him, I pulled my whole body out and darted for the door.

Blood pounded in my brain as my reawakened limb started to warm up again. I struggled to remember which way to go as I slowed to a walk as soon as I was clear of the room. It all looked different now. Something wet was trickling down my face. I lifted a finger and was shocked when it came back with fresh blood on it. My nose was bleeding from where it impacted on the floor. 

I could hear a foul curse behind me in the room as Solo pulled himself from under the bed. Taking a chance, I ran to the left.


	10. Choices

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GS Note: Well, aren't you proud, Gato and this out in the same day! Assuming people are still reading….

Before the Tale

__

Choices

As it turned out, left was a bad choice. It led right into a dead end, a newly constructed wall blocking my way out. I whirled around.

That little kid, Solo, was now in my way. He spread his arms disarmingly. There was blood trickling down his nose too. It stuck out at a funny angle.

"Oh combe on," his voice sounded strange. I almost groaned when I realised that kick must have broken his nose. There was no way I was leaving this house alive. "I'mb knot bmad at you. Let's talk dis out—"

I didn't give him a chance to finish. Unmindful of my own injuries, I pushed past his outstretched arms and darted back into the first room I saw. I slammed the door behind me, my heart pounding as I hear him yelling in the hall. I used my body to hold the door shut but as the boy wrecked it with his fists, I felt the impacts on my thin frame. This wasn't going to work.

I scanned the room. It was the same one where I had stabbed… Without a second hesitation, I dove under the bed again and whirled around to see the door open hastily. I braced myself on my hands and knees, glaring at the socked feet coming towards me.

There was no way in _hell_ I was leaving now.

***

I wrapped the worn wool blanket around my knees tighter. The pillow was leaning against the wall behind me and another blankets cushioned the hard wood floor. I closed my eyes to take a quick nap. Unfortunately, my visitor had other thoughts.

"This is silly," the bedsprings creaked over my head, I sighed and pulled the blanket over my head. "It's been a week, that's seven days bucko. You've been fed, clothed 'n cleaned up. 'Course, ya did the last part yourself but hell, we _even_ got ya that potty thing, and frankly, I'm glad Father Maxwell cleaned it and not me. I might still be peeved at ya fer my nose but Sister Helen don't give a rat's ass about 'her kidney. Well, if she still had it a'course. Haha, that's funny. Well fer me a'course. I'm sure Sister don't like me makin' fun of her and all."

I poked my eyes out from under the blanket. The springs sagged more as Solo dropped his head over the side of the bed. His blonde hair hung over his eyes and he blew on it futiley. 

"Ya gonna come out of there any time soon?"

I could tell he was bored. I just wanted to sleep. He had said it had been a week and in that time he hadn't left me alone for very long. I had hoped that by not talking I would discourage him. I didn't know Solo.

He was right about a few things. I had been fed three times a day with good warm food and drinks. I had gotten new clothes and blankets to sleep on. I admit, that bowl they had me pissing in was a bit humiliating but I deserved it.

Sister Helen, that kind lady who's helped me, had to get her kidney taken out. When Solo told me how it was done, I shuddered. How someone could let a stranger take a knife to themselves and take something out was beyond me. In our endless time together, Solo never failed to explain everything to me. From His day-to-day life, how the Church worked, the kinds of food Sister Helen would make if I was bad to the police visits, I heard it all. In length and detail, might I add.

He was still looking at me patiently. There was a bandaid over his nose from where I had broken it. He didn't seem bothered one bit as his cheeks started to turn red from the blood rushing to his head. I pulled the orange blanket over my head again and cleared my throat.

If silence wasn't gonna shut him up, I needed a better approach.

"Maybe," my voice was gritty and rough. Solo squeaked and pulled his head up. I uncovered my eyes again and listened as he scrambled around the bed until he landed on the floor. He lay flat on his belly, unmindful of the cold floor and looked at me with eager blue eyes. 

"Didja say something?" he asked. "Finally?"

"Hn," I grunted and shrugged my shoulders. A week of stationary position had made me stiff. I slowly began to pull my legs underneath me to look at him straight on. "I did. And af'er all dis time, I got sumting ta say."

I was nervous, I'll admit. Sure, these people might act nice now, but so did my mother when she wanted something. These people might be the same. Maybe they wanted something, maybe they just wanted to use me for something then throw me away. There was an awesome chance that they would give me to the police or they might even be trying to trick me for their own perposes. Either way, I was still stuck under a bed. And I need to get out, now. 

If things got bad, I could always run. I took a chance.

"I wanna get outta 'ere."

Solo offered his hand. I hesitated. What if it was a mistake, what if I was getting myself in over my head? I squashed that little voice. With trembling fingers, I put my hand in his. He clasped it in a warm grasp and pulled me out from under. I slid along on my knees.

My back protested as I stood upright for the first time in a long while. Solo was taller then me, I squared my shoulders, balled my fists and glared at him. He looked me up and down before cheekily meeting my eyes.

"Now yer talkin' my lingo, mate," Solo grinned widely, his nose crinkling under the bandage. "I think Father'll be wantin' ta talk with ya."

I jumped as he clapped a friendly hand on my shoulder and started to steer me out of the room. I threw one last look over my shoulder at the safe haven I had left. Then, I turned around back towards the door and with a straight back, left.

It took a long while for things to get sorted out. Sister Helen was still in the hospital and the police hadn't been able to track down either Solo's parents or mine. Secretly, I was relieved. Father Maxwell had agreed to take temporary custody of us until a home could be found to take us in. We slept on the couch in the big room Sister Helen had taken me to before. I had been solo for most of my street life and wasn't used to being in such close contact with another person before.

Needless to say, the first night after I came out, it was a bit shocking to wake up in the middle of the night to take a leak and find myself trapped by a pair of arms. My first instinct was to scramble away and I followed it. With my kicking, Solo let out an indignat squeak and fell off the old couch onto the freezing floor. I perched on top of the arm and peered down at him rubbing his butt. 

"What waz that for?" he grumbled quietly and stood up. The Church was dark and silent with even the soft movements of little Solo causing the floorboards to creak. 

"Whadda t'ink ya waz doin'?" I hissed harshly. "Me waz under ya arms!"

"I waz cold ya moron," Solo glared back, only his glinting eyes and pale hair were visible on his dark silhouette. Moonlight streamed in from one of the old windows. "That's wot people do when they're cold. It's body heat or sumthing. Jeez, can't a guy get a little warmin' up?"

I snorted and slowly slipped off the arm and landing with a quiet thud on the floor. I hurried down the dark halls as Solo struggled back on the couch grumbling. I found the bathroom after a few lost turns and did my business in the dark. I tiptoed passed Father Maxwell's room on my way back but hesitated before climbing back on the couch.

Having someone's arms around me reminded me of my father. He used to hug me all the time and tell me what a miracle I was. After he had been killed I swore that no one could hold me like that again. It was my father's special right and if he couldn't do it, no one could. _Especially_ not a stranger like Solo. 

I knew Solo was awake, his eyes were opened a slit as he watched me from under his blankets. Not bothering to look back, I took one of the top blankets from him and curled up on the floor wrapping it around me for warmth. I felt the tension in the air as he raised his head slightly to look at me. I ignored him until he gave a hurt sigh and flopped back down. 

My guts were tossing and turning and I felt a little sick. Worry gripped my throat.

Had I lost my only friend in the world?


End file.
